


1. Beginnings

by smiledarnyou



Series: Big Damn Table [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, big damn table, dan howell being a complete sap, idek you might tear up a little i don't know your grip on emotions, maybe a lot of fluff, mild mention of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:26:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiledarnyou/pseuds/smiledarnyou
Summary: He never imagined meeting one of the most beautiful people in his life. A person who was not only unconventionally stunning enough to transform one’s ideal of beauty,  but who challenged one’s perspective of creativity, humanity, humor and love. One who would bring him into a new world of beginnings and possibilities.





	

Big Damn Table  
One. Beginnings

 

The building of his own family was a weak, but simple concept as a child. He had only recited what his parents dreamed of out-loud during family holiday parties. His father worked in special effects for movies, traveling around the world and meeting famous actors and actresses. Dan spent most of his childhood in school or traveling to one of the sets his father worked in. His father, however, envisioned a safe, comfortable environment for his son. He would hear “doctor” or “lawyer” thrown around a few times over the dinner table after a few drinks. He would hear his grandparents chuckling about the concept of great-grandchildren, hoping they would be too old for that passage of time to come.

At the age of six, his teacher asked him and his other peers to draw their future. What kind of house would he live in? What kind of car would he drive, if he chose to have one? What job would he have to pay for the house? What would his family look like? Would he have any pets in his home? 

His project was a beautiful, messy thing. He drew a version of his own home, coloring outside the lines of his two-story cottage, with a robin’s egg blue edition of his father’s station wagon. He drew himself as an adult with a striped tie, sitting at a desk which was piled high with thick books (even as a child, he could never imagine a lawyer appearing to be an exciting career). He drew a lady, appearing similar to his mother, with two brown curled lines protruding from her head, holding hands with a child who looked strikingly similar to himself. He drew his own dog, because what other dog could he imagine possessing in the future, besides his own? What other life could he envision better than the life he had then? He could not imagine a more beautiful woman than his own mother, a better home, or a better dog.

His youthful, expanding imagination never understood the possibilities of what was better, what could be.

He never imagined meeting one of the most beautiful people in his life. A person who was not only unconventionally stunning enough to transform one’s ideal of beauty, but who challenged one’s perspective of creativity, humanity, humor and love. One who would bring him into a new world of beginnings and possibilities. Dreams of becoming an attorney and falling asleep into law practice books, were lost. The drab life he saw as a college freshman, was drowned in color. There were the blues and greens and yellows of gorgeous eyes, summers filled with sunny beaches, and bed comforters smelling and feeling like home. 

And what was home to him, in the future? Home was no longer a physical building, with a foundation and roof, walls and floors. A body could be a home, really. The foundation and floors being a chest and stomach to rest on and nestle into, arms to shield him from nature such as a windy day or sheets of rain. A human being provided warmth and comfort even better than a space heater or fireplace. Without him, the apartment was just an apartment. 

That aside, they did need a bigger place. The couch was becoming more uncomfortable for their aging spines and hips, the apartment growing smaller with people’s gifts and their own shared collection of flowers, candles, and merchandise. After their neighbors moving and finding themselves visiting their friends out of town so often, the possibility of bigger spaces, felt less of a dream and more of a need. After one night of red wine and messy, youthful kisses, the suggestion of a house was mentioned and there was a mutual agreement.

So they set out for a real home. Not just any house to reside in, but something precious which was scoured for, through hours and months of research. Him shouting out different styles (“contemporary, modern, neo-Gothic, what does it all mean?”) and secretly scouting school reviews during business meetings, became a normalcy, just like checking his email or editing out excess kisses in videos. After three different realtors with different degrees of patience, a loving husband with even more varying degrees of patience, hundreds of homes seen from every corner of Brighton, and a contract signed finally brought him a peace he never felt before. Once the boxes were moved from their tiny London apartment, into their 5 bedroom house in Brighton, opened and scattered across the floors, the rooms shrunk down and Dan could breathe easier. 

A month later after moving in, if followers could listen closely in videos, they could hear the tapping of two sets of paws against hardwood (initially the barking was edited in videos so there would be a surprise, but they agreed editing small things has been tiring over the last decade or so). Dan’s selfies were slowly but surely replaced with more pictures of an adopted three year old corgi (Calcifer, they agreed after finding the spatula from their first Japan trip) and five year old sealyham terrier (Cloud, after a fan artist won the naming contest), posing in various spots of their home (not that the bespectacled beauty himself was never in Dan’s spotlight). Fan art were hung up higher on walls, and things became more dog-proofed in their home. The more they dressed the dogs up for photos and videos, feeding them and playing with them on their backyard, they felt one last component was missing. Everything felt so safe, so comfortable. Their guest room was set up carefully in case of family and friends, their guest bathroom was also set accordingly. Their filming room and office was set in the smallest of the guest rooms, where the realtor explained they could set up a “movie room” due to the acoustics in the room being able to trap in surround sound. But there was one room which felt. Empty. 

It was jokingly, yet adoringly described as their “hobby room.” There was the black Steinway piano, a bookcase lining the west wall, and two dog beds for Calcifer and Cloud. There was a painting easel and a basket of chewing toys and plushies. They loved this room because it was a place where technology was banned and their minds were free to wonder. The north wall was essentially a giant window, showing the view of the town below. It was gorgeous but there was something still lacking. 

It was a battle, to put it in the shortest of terms. It took two years. Adoption was always something in the back of Dan’s mind, even when he was in his early twenties. Adoption was ideal, he even argued that it was easier to adopt Calcifer and Cloud than it was to get a breeder. However, Califer and Cloud felt easier. They both knew what breed they preferred, sacrificing the idea of a shiba inu as an option to find in a pet adoption service. A human life, arguably, felt more fragile. There were so many lives, so many stories and broken hearts that there were often tears in early mornings. 

Dan was encouraged to donate first. He remembered talking about how he would love to have kids of his own. There was no fighting over it, because they both knew. Dan’s parents would have loved nothing more than to have a grandchild in their own flesh and blood. It was a matter of finding the right surrogate (bless Louise, it was technically her third round) and after months of parenting classes, sleepless nights filled with self-doubt spoken out loud (and assured), rejecting family phone calls prompting ideas for gender reveal parties, and lists of unisex baby names, their baby girl was finally there.  
Six year old Dan never could have imagined the biology of making children, not just in the birds and bees sense. And would he have loved to know how amazing the birth of a child was (when you weren't the one delivering one, of course).

Dan would love for Dan from the past to see this now. Not just six year old Dan, but to thirteen year old Dan when he felt the weakest. To sixteen year old Dan, when he started his very first serious relationship, worried whether it would lead to heartbreak. To twenty-one year old Dan who spent every bit of spare time fighting a losing battle with himself, with followers, with his fear of the future. To twenty five year old Dan, at the end of the year, when he thought everything was perfect then, unable to see how his future could be any brighter, happier. 

He wished they could see him now. 

He would love to show his daughter now, those sheets of construction paper still hiding in his parents’ attic. Their daughter was that age of nativity, unknowing what her future may hold. She only knew the love of her two fathers, and the godmother that birthed her. She only knew the stuffed plushies she brought with her everywhere, was Dan’s first Christmas present from Papa all those years ago, so she knew Ton-Ton was very much loved (“Ton-Ton” being the only thing she could call it while she teethed on its lantern). She knew her blankie was stitched together with love from Dad and Papa, vibrant blues and greens and purples on one half, and faded and muted black, gray and white on the other side (they enjoyed the aesthetic of it, she loved how soft it was). She knew Papa and Dad were going to use different voices for every character in every bedtime story, even if Papa’s sounded slightly the same. If one of their voice’s would get sick, (because Dad and Papa’s job was to talk a lot) . She knew every time Dad or Papa would call her full name, Papa had this smile that would make Dad still in place ("Willow Robin Lester, what are you-Phil when are you going to get over that, she's eating the camera for God's sake-"). 

She knew every time her eyes began to drift off as Papa brushed back her hair and Dad would sing a soft lullaby, that her parents looked down to her in adoration. They had smiles that made her feel warm, warmer than blankie ever could. Calcifer keeping his stance at Papa’s side, and Cloud’s nose pressed against her arm, as he cuddled next to Dad, making her feel safe and sound. The singing growing softer as her eyes drooped even heavier, the petting becoming slower. Falling asleep with Papa and Dad by her sides, made her feel like the luckiest child in the world, as her parents discovered over a Valentine’s Day card. 

The luckiest child in the world. 

A simple notion, yes. But the most beautiful kind.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to formally dedicate this whole collection to Nikki (aka pin0fs and/or heroships). This is formally dedicated to someone I’ve admired for a couple years in this community, not just for amazing talent as an artist, but for his amazing character. He’s an incredible friend and a father/brother/cousin figure to many of the community here, including myself. He’s made me laugh and smile, all while inspiring me in my creative life and my real-time adult life (ehehe because neither of those coincide with each other, amrite?). I owe so much of this collection to him. 
> 
> I’m so glad to have been selected for the Nikki appreciation project, and I had struggled with what to contribute. There were so many talented friends that were in this project as well. There were so many tropes to touch on that I knew he loved, and it was hard to pick just one. So, I decided to do another one of these collections that I used to love doing when I was younger and found my true love in writing.
> 
> Nikki was one of those who inspired me to come back into this community. Because of him I’m finding my passion and love in writing again. And because of him I’ve found so many friends and a love for life again. Nikki, this is all for you. <3 B


End file.
